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  “You make me feel . . . this shouldn’t be happening,” she whispered and the shadow of fear slid from her eyes, replaced by something else.

  He caught the dark shadow of her nipples against the front of her blouse, even through her bra. A deep breath as he sought control brought her scent, her arousal, into his system. It had been a very long time since he’d felt this sort of raw need.

  “It is.” Reaching toward her very cautiously, he tucked some of her hair behind her shoulder. And fell. Fell into her, into her spell, into whatever delicious thing that had built between them. The soft, cool silk of the dark strands caressed his hand and arm until all he could do was lean in and kiss her.

  Rather than gasp or pull away, she relaxed, sliding her arms up and around his neck, opening her mouth to him.

  He tasted her, sampled the heat of her mouth, the softness of her tongue sliding against his. He hadn’t kissed anyone this way for nearly fifteen years.

  His cock brushed against her thigh and all he could think about was the top of the stocking. All he wanted to do was place a kiss there and it drove him crazy. Crazy enough his hands found that spot on each thigh, on the inside. Her breath gusted out as her hips canted forward.

  The tips of his fingers brushed against her cunt, open and ridiculously hot and wet against the material of her panties. She panted and he returned her breath with his own strain to breathe. He needed to stop, this should not happen, but the soft, desperate sound she made into his mouth was his undoing.

  He moved closer, on his knees between her wide-open thighs. He burrowed his fingers beneath her panties and nearly passed out when they slid between the slick folds of her pussy, and her clit, already hard and swollen, met his fingertips as he moved them up.

  He opened his eyes, looking down into her face as he fingered her pussy. The sounds of his fingers sliding into her core and pulling out echoed against her whispered moans and the rustle of clothing.

  Anyone could walk in at any time. This was fucking madness, but he could not stop until she came all over his hand. He had to have her orgasm. Her fingers dug in to his shoulders as she rocked against his fingers and he wondered how long it had been for her, but then realized he didn’t want to know what other men she’d been with. Didn’t want to know if anyone else had shared this exquisite tension with her.

  She arched, breaking the kiss with a gasp as he felt her body find release in a hot rush. All through the moments he’d had his fingers buried in her, his gaze hadn’t left her face, not wanting to miss that moment, and he wasn’t sorry. The lines on her forehead smoothed as her face totally relaxed and her mouth opened on a sated sigh.

  What the hells had just happened? Abbie slowly opened her eyes to find those sexy green ones looking back. Satisfaction etched his features, purely and utterly male, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Um . . .” What could she say? Thanks for the hand job? Do you regularly finger women to climax on your carpet with your staff right outside?

  “Roman, I’m sorry to bother you, but Alexander is on the comm and he’s insisting on speaking with you.” Marcus’s voice echoed through the office intercom, startling them both into action.

  Wincing a bit—a glance at his crotch and Abbie saw why—Roman stood and held a hand down to her. Grateful he hadn’t simply pulled her to standing, she took the hand and got up.

  She was a total mess. Emotionally, well, she couldn’t even think on what had happened that day. Physically, though, was her concern right then.

  “You . . .” She nodded toward his cock, feeling bad she hadn’t given him what he’d done for her.

  “I’ll be all right. A discussion with my brother will undo all your work, I’m afraid.” He paused and slid a fingertip through the notch in her chin. “My bathroom is right through that door should you want to straighten your clothes up. I have to take this comm, but I would like to continue this discussion afterward.”

  Avoiding that for the time being, she simply nodded and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself, leaning against it to catch her breath as she heard Roman bustle around and then his voice as he took the comm.

  The woman looking back at her in the mirror started as she took herself in. “I look like a nineteen-year-old who just got fingered in her boyfriend’s parents’ house,” she mumbled as she wet her hands to get her hair back in order. Which made her laugh because she had been a nineteen-year-old girl who got fingered in her boyfriend’s parents’ house, in the dark, in their family room after an hour of kissing.

  Who kissed for an hour anymore? She’d like to kiss Roman for an hour, maybe two. Languid kisses, because they had the whole day to do nothing more than that.

  Her knees were still rubber from the interlude. How completely unexpected it had all been. Him touching her like that, shoving her sleeve up to see the bruise Kerrigan had left. And when she saw his hand there, something slipped its moorings inside her and she rushed at him, shoving him to the carpet, wanting to harm before she could be harmed.

  But he’d been still, looking up at her through eyes that saw right to her soul. Some part of him had seen her pain and he’d responded to that. And then when he’d caressed her thighs, good great gods! It’d been enough to ram the sense back into her to jump from him and get some distance. But then he’d uncoiled himself like a great male predator and moved to her with kind eyes.

  She’d attacked not just a Ranked male, but the Ranked male, and he’d gently moved the hair from her face. Not as if she were so fragile she’d break, but as if she were precious. And then he kissed her and she couldn’t resist, couldn’t even recall the reasons she’d had for staying away from him to begin with.

  She’d gone up there upset and afraid, but now something else had passed between them. He’d touched her physically, yes, but emotionally, as well, and the dark edge of craving began to sliver through her.

  He’d kissed her like a man was meant to kiss. Intent in every movement, in every slide of lips and tongue. Want roared through her, and when he’d touched her thighs, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cunt, she’d nearly swallowed her tongue.

  Yes, those moments on his floor had undoubtedly been some of the hottest in her life, and they absolutely could not happen again. Well, maybe once she—you know—evened things out between them.

  He’d gone from hypercontrolled to hypersexual, and yet she got the feeling he still held back. She wondered what he’d be like in bed completely unfettered. She shivered; it wasn’t for her to know. He was Roman Lyons. She was a woman from a professional family, yes, but an unranked one. It wasn’t like that little interlude meant anything, and all she could really hope was that he wouldn’t think less of her for it.

  She waited a while but he still spoke in the other room, and the longer she waited, the more nervous she became. Eventually, she quietly exited the bathroom and inched her way toward the door to the outer office.

  His eyes cut to her as he continued to speak in terse, tight sentences. He shook his head but she nodded and waved as she headed for freedom.

  “Is he off the comm?” Marcus asked, acting as if she hadn’t just had his boss two knuckles deep on the floor of his office. Gods, she hoped he had no real idea of what had gone on in there.

  “Um, no. He’s still on, but it’s late. I need to go home.”

  A mysterious smile curved Marcus’s lips before concern replaced it.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Haws? I saw the footage and if I wouldn’t be tossed into lockup, I’d be heading over to Saul Kerrigan’s home right now.”

  She softened a bit. Marcus was quite charming. “Please, call me Abbie. And I’m fine. Really. And now I must go. Please tell Mr. Lyons I appreciate his concern.”

  “Okay, if you call me Marcus. He had Kerrigan in here. Yelled at him. Roman does not yell.”

  She blew out a breath, liking it more than she should that Roman Lyons defended her in some sense.

  “Well, that sort of vid footag
e is bound to get out, and I’m sure he wondered if I’d go to the media about it.”

  “Why didn’t you?” One eyebrow rose, taunting her.

  She shrugged. “Who says I won’t? Good evening, Marcus.”

  Chapter 5

  “I can’t believe it. Kerrigan needs a punch in the face.” Her brother Daniel paced in her parents’ living room. She’d gone straight there from Roman’s office, knowing that scene with Kerrigan would most likely hit the vids. She didn’t want them to be scared, worrying about her, so she thought she’d head it off. Not to mention, she wanted to be sure her father didn’t hare off on some wild scheme.

  Of course, it had been on the vids, and making matters worse, the others in the MRD had been looking for her as well. She had a lot to deal with and she had no idea how she’d explain that in two meetings with Roman Lyons she hadn’t spoken about the MRD at all. Those messages she left to deal with the following day.

  She’d hoped to get a little comfort from her visit home, but instead all her siblings were there and her mother had baked several cakes. The cake part wasn’t so bad. Her mother would send at least one home with her and she could eat it instead of having sex with Roman Lyons. Which would be wrong. Bad and wrong and stupid. And really hot, she’d bet.

  “Typical. Typical privileged behavior. If you’d done that to him, you’d have been arrested.” Clementine Haws, Abbie’s mother, handed her a plate heaped with cake before sitting beside her. “Eat.”

  “Mmmm. Cake. Thanks, Mai.” She dug in before she had to say another thing about it. She wanted to go home, drink something strong enough to stop the nightmares, and sleep.

  “Are you all right? You looked so very pale in that footage from the hallway. I know it must bring up memories for you.” Her oldest brother, Daniel, sat across from her, concern etched into his features.

  “I’m fine. I told you all, I’m fine and I don’t want to talk about that. I only came over because I knew it would be on the screens and you’d be worried.”

  “Well, not to seem heartless or anything, but you can certainly use this with Lyons now. He’s certain to be more sympathetic toward you.”

  She’d been wondering when her father would bring it up. He was a creature of habit, after all.

  “Gods! Dai, you’re so out of line sometimes. It would be nice of you to think about your children as people instead of opportunities every once in a while.” Nyna, her sister and best friend, threw an angry glance at their father.

  “I’m just saying! I love my children, Nyna,” Jonas, their father, looking slightly guilty, but Abbie didn’t miss the light of a mission in his eyes. “She has an opportunity, why should she waste it? Abbie didn’t get where she is today by letting things happen to her. She makes things happen for other people.”

  Her baby brother, Georges, snorted and Daniel sighed.

  Abbie knew her father loved them in his own way. But she also knew the cause meant just as much, if not more, and so she wasn’t surprised or even hurt by what he’d said. In fact, she’d been amazed by his restraint at waiting as long as he did before bringing it up.

  “This was lovely. Thanks for the cake, Mai. I need to go home now.” Abbie stood and her sister did as well.

  “I’ll go with you. I need to get home, too.” Nyna glared at their father and Abbie pulled a strand of her sister’s hair. “Ouch! What?”

  “Leave him alone. It’s who he is. He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Abbie murmured.

  “I’ll go with both of you. With Family members out in the halls of justice assaulting tiny women, what’s next?” Daniel said.

  “Jonas, you’ve chased her off. After the day our girl has had, you just had to bring that up?” Her mother spun on her father, hands on her hips.

  “Mai, it’s all right. I promise. I really do have to go home. I’ve been up for a very long time and I need to sleep. I have several cases being heard in the next few weeks, so I have to prepare.” She let her father hug her tight and returned the kiss to his cheek.

  “You know I love you.” He looked so sad, for a moment she realized how very much he was like a sibling instead of a father. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t a bad person, he just wasn’t totally developed as a father. His causes took higher priority than his family, and their mother had always been the one who provided the actual parenting. Sad but true, and certainly not going to change at that point.

  “I do. I’m not mad. I really do need to go.”

  The lines on his forehead smoothed and he smiled. “Night then, Abbie.”

  With Daniel on one side and Nyna on the other, they took the tram back toward the city center where the three of them lived within a few city blocks. The night was clear and crisp, and the scents of her old neighborhood hung in the air. Bakeries, cafés, the trees lining the walk. Despite everything, it was a good ’Verse. Ravena was her home and she would fight for it.

  Perhaps she was feeling sort of sleepy and content because of the orgasm she’d had earlier.

  “You’d better give me some of that cake. Just because some old guy yelled at you and stuff doesn’t mean you should get all the cake. And what are you smiling about?” Daniel winked at her.

  “He needs to stop eating so much cake, that Saul Kerrigan. He looks like a giant, featherheaded meatball,” Nyna said.

  Abbie and Daniel burst out laughing. “He’s an old fool who felt threatened. And it’s over now.” The three of them got off near Abbie’s building and walked the last bit.

  “Are you going to be safe? How serious is this? Be honest.” Daniel stopped her, putting a hand to her cheek.

  “I think I’ll be fine. He was just upset because he felt thwarted. Roman Lyons apparently warned him off.”

  “But when you start agitating with the MRD again? What then? This is a dangerous path, Abbie.” Daniel had a point.

  “It is, yes. But what can I do? Stop working to make the ’Verses more democratic? Because some old man yelled at me and gave me a bruise? The time is now, Daniel. Things have never been so favorable for us before.”

  “He gave you a bruise?” Daniel’s voice darkened, violence making it sharp at the edges. He’d served in the military like most of Ravena’s youth, but he had done things he didn’t speak of. Abbie was pretty sure he was still involved in military intelligence in some way. They didn’t discuss it, but he often knew things and did things that only someone in the upper echelons of the corps would know. He would disappear for weeks at a time without a word. She knew it wasn’t merely consulting, no matter what he said.

  She stopped, grabbing his arm for emphasis. “Yes, but you’re not responsible for it, nor do I want you to do anything about it. Understand? There is nothing you can do.”

  He was silent for long moments until he finally nodded and she and Nyna relaxed. The last thing she needed was to have to defend her brother on a murder charge for some piece of garbage like Saul Kerrigan.

  “I’m going in now. I’ll see you both at dinner in a few days. Thanks for the escort, and, no, you may not have any of my cake. Perhaps some yucky old man can assault you and Mai will make you some.” She kissed both siblings and went into her building while they watched.

  No more hot chemistry for her and Roman Lyons. He was completely and totally unacceptable. He was Ranked and certainly unable to marry her, even if he wanted to. And it wasn’t like she expected marriage after a hand job either. But at some point, with a man, you wanted to think about the future. If there was no future ever, what would the point be? She was old enough to be past any silly nonsense of just having a fling. She was a serious person when it came to relationships. It was one thing to date, but another thing to date until a replacement woman suitable for marriage came along.

  She couldn’t imagine him taking a mistress, and she’d never actually be one. So it was a dead end. In this case it was best to just let it be a sweet, hot memory.

  Her apartment was quiet when she let herself in. She noted the myriad messages on her comm
but walked by toward the bathroom and her pills. The past had a way of creeping in and it had sunk its claws in deep that afternoon. A drink and a little white pill and she could only pray for a night without dreams.

  Sweet gods, his balls ached. Roman shifted his weight in his chair yet again. Abigail Haws had worked him up and then escaped while he’d been in midargument with Alexander.

  Alexander felt their allegiance belonged to House Kerrigan in this whole mess. Roman didn’t blame Alexander too much; after all, right then, many Families had a siege mentality and it wasn’t as if Alexander had much empathy or experience with the unranked. Still, Roman had enough problems and now his idiot brother had allied himself with Saul at precisely the wrong time.

  On top of that, he needed to come and he hadn’t even spoken with Abigail about what her group wanted from him.

  Marcus had gone home for the day so Roman left him a note to contact Abigail again to set up a meeting to discuss the demands of her group. They should absolutely not have sex, even if it was everything he wanted at that moment.

  Abigail Haws was unranked and unsuitable. She was beautiful and he certainly admired her intelligence and her integrity but Ranked first sons simply didn’t marry unranked. When he made the choice to marry again, it would be the daughter of an important House because it was how things were done.

  She could be a mistress, certainly. But he didn’t believe in having a wife and a mistress. He felt it only demeaned all three people. Roman would take a wife and be faithful to her because she deserved that commitment from him. He had respected Lindy, had even loved her in his own way. She’d been the best wife and mother she could be, if distant at the end. Kind, gentle, compassionate. He couldn’t have asked for more. Even passionate love, something he’d always imagined having someday, was more than he could have asked for with Lindy or anyone else. He’d had a satisfying marriage and a good family life. Now he had two wonderful sons who’d take his place someday.